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death poem

peut-être ce n'est aucune matière que vous êtes morte
gaily par les champs nous avons dansé
exprimons nos passions plus basses
je suis fevered
près d'un champ en détresse
au-dessus des dessus de toit emballez les ombres des nuages
chère épouse
nous n'étions pas beaucoup
laissez-moi être triste
les ombres des bateaux

 



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